Why it’s okay if I never get pregnant.
“Oh, you’re adopting! How exciting! I bet you’ll get pregnant now.”
Maybe. Buuuut, maybe not and that’s okay.
Let me tell you why it’s okay if I never get pregnant…
What I have to say might surprise you.
It’s not about the beautiful little dark-haired girl God is preparing us for right this second in China. Yes, of course, she’s probably going to be the biggest blessing we’ve ever experienced. I’m sure her giggle is going to make my heart burst at the seams. I can’t wait to see her sparkly eyes and feel her tiny hands holding my face. I can’t wait to finally decide her name and call out to her as she toddles around in the sunshine. All good stuff. But, again, not the reason it’s okay if I never get pregnant.
There were a good few years where I felt like I was that scary toy inside the wind-up Jack in the Box. Tension and bitterness and fear and control, winding up, winding up, winding up, winding up…
An explosion of hurt and “why me“s?
You might not have seen all this. I was busy isolating myself. Trying to deal. Tidying up my emotions that had spilled on the floor.
Insert here: Incorrect way of dealing with pain.
Is it God’s plan that I never bear a child? I’m not sure. But, what I do know is that in the process of trying to figure it out, I learned a heck of a lot about what his plan is for me. My infertility was a full-length mirror, revealing every painfully obvious sensitivity, the missing pieces in my relationship with Jesus, my desire to do and try to achieve my way through it all, never a pregnant belly.
I wonder if I would’ve landed here, where I am now, lavished in the grace and beauty of God, had the last four years shaken out differently.
I wonder if the severity of my pain was necessary for my revival. I’m thinking more and more…yes. Yes, it was. I’m positive some of it could have been avoided had I spent less time lamenting and more time sitting quietly, waiting, seeking, abiding. But looking back, even that, it’s all such a beautiful picture of who He is. I can’t believe how patient He is with me.
Are you starting to see what I mean?
Let me make it even clearer.
God, the Creator of the universe, the guy who parts seas, well, he keeps on changing my life. Time and time again. Just when I think I’m good and strong and the toughest cookie that ever was, I break and crumble and he picks up the pieces and carries me to wherever it is I’m supposed to be.
I was emailing with our adoption agency the other day. They were sending over some materials to help with THE WAIT. “Oh, we know how hard this part is. The waiting for a referral. It’s the hardest part.” There was more, too, about how I must be feeling extra anxious in life right now because of all of this, blah, blah, blah freaking BLAH. (I know their intentions are good.)
And I’m like, actually we’re really good. I’m good. Way less anxiety than a year ago when we were in the thick of paperwork and appointments. Way more peace and calm and trust. This has been the easiest part of it all and that’s only because Jesus has resurrected me. Don’t get me wrong. I still cry. A lot. I still doubt. I still react. I still get inklings of jealousy. But those moments are softening and dissolving and evaporating into his love much faster than a few years ago. The hard stuff that really, truly does still exist, well, it’s like I’m seeing it at night without wearing my glasses; it’s fuzzy and faded.
This isn’t about how far I’ve come. It’s about how much work he’s done. In me.
That baby girl in China right now, our baby girl, the one we don’t know yet? She’s obviously a miracle. And I’m obviously going to have to be the best mama I can be for her. I don’t know the details yet, but I know wherever she’s coming from…it’s a tough place. The first moments and months of her life might be so unbelievably painful that we wish it was all fuzzy and faded. I’ll need to be ready to do absolutely nothing that I think will help and everything he knows will. There will be plenty of sitting quietly, waiting on and seeking, abiding with him. This is all just preparation for that little miracle girl and I am starting to feel like he thinks I’m ready because…
He’s transformed my desires and heart. He’s flipped them all upside down. Day after day after day, I come to him and he shakes out my need for control, the anxiety, the stress, the pain, my past, my fear. He empties my hurt heart, turns it right side back up and starts pouring life and truth and goodness back in. Every day that I ask him to. And so, I keep on asking.
Infertility has been one of the biggest struggles of my life.
Adopting a baby will fulfill parts of what I’ve longed for, but I’m not certain it will erase the pain of infertility.
There is only one cure for that.
So, maybe I’ll get pregnant one day.
Either way, it’ll all be perfectly okay.